


Fragments of A Life Spent in Common Crisis

by AwayLaughing



Series: the unseen [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Marriage of Convenience, Slice of Life, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 21:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6825928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/pseuds/AwayLaughing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inuzuka Tsume's life may not have been as easy as pie, but she faces every problem head on and unflinching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fragments of A Life Spent in Common Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> I write a lot of sad dad fic, time for a scrappy mom fic!

The only noise in the office was the ticking of the clock, and it took all of Tsume's self restraint not to scream just to release tension and break up the silence. None of the other women here dared look at one another, and the fact that every once and a while a nurse popped her head in to check everyone was there made it worse. It made Tsume feel like a wayward child not a grown ass shinobi in a very grown ass predicament.

 

Though admittedly, if someone showed up to hold her hand she wouldn't punch them in the face.

 

If they'd let her bring Kuro in, that would have helped at least. He was her support network, more than anything else. More than her old team, than her clan or anyone. Kuro was a constant, someone she needed and who could be needed and yet, when she needed someone the most, she was alone.

 

Fuck that shit.

 

She sat like that for almost fifteen minutes before the nurse, someone who looked even younger than Tsume was feeling at that moment. She regretted so much, as she walked towards the other woman, mostly sitting so far from the hall because all the other women she passed were glaring at her like some sort of pre-lynch mob. Like they weren't all here for the exact same damn reason she was.

* * *

 

It seemed to take for-fucking-ever to get to the exam room, and then of course the nurse just took the filled out forms she'd been handed by the ancient receptionist earlier. Then they abandoned her to sit in the sterile room until finally a dark haired man with lines around his eyes stepped into the room. There was grey at his temples, and Tsume could only stare at him, mute.

 

“Hello Inuzuka-san,” he said, voice gentle. “I'm Doctor-”

 

She didn't care. “Am I pregnant or not?”

 

“Ah,” he said, still insultingly relaxed. “Straight to the point then?” She nodded, mute. “The blood work is looking that way.”

 

“Oh,” Tsume said. “Well fuck me.” The doctor's face shifted slightly, something almost wry and despite herself she barked a laugh. “Yeah, right?” She struggled to keep eye contact, “don't you have pamphlets or something?”

 

He sat down on his stool, radiating non-judgement like a chakra flare. “That depends on what you want to do?”

* * *

 

Tsume sat in a booth in a cafe so small there was only one person working the counter and that was too many, probably. Kuro was at her feet, having been briefed and now just offering the support she wanted. Outside, a familiar chakra signature was lingering, and Tsume ignored it in favour of staring at the three pamphlets in front of her.

 

Blue, lighter blue, green.

 

Sighing, she picked on up and then put it back down, fingers splayed across the shiny paper. 3, 2, 1, and the door swung open with a cheery jingle. Moments later, a familiar figure was standing over the table, brown eyes taking in everything with a forced calm.

 

“Well, shit,” Yoshino said, sitting across from her.

 

“Shit,” Tsume agreed.

 

“What are you going to do?”

 

“Fuck if I know.”

* * *

 

She decided to keep it. She told the dad, and everything a week later he proposed with a ring with nothing but a small, well polished circle of white jade in it. She was showing by the time they threw a very quick and dirty ceremony together – delayed so she could spend as much time on the lines as possible – but no one was rude enough to say anything.

 

Now, sweating and shaking as she paced a tiny hospital room, she sort of regretted all this everything. Masajun wasn't here, which was only to expected really because her _husband_ seemed to spend most of his days in an overwhelmed haze anyway.

 

“Mothering fucking gods bedamned HELL,” she shouted, not caring at all about the half amused nurse in the doorway. “Why does this hurt so much?” she asked, “who's fucking idea was this?”

 

“Good question,” the nurse said, “why don't you lay down so we can take a look at you?”

 

“Because that hurts more!”

 

Gift of child birth her _ass_.

* * *

 

Tsume had always heard that the first time you held your baby it was magical and wonderful and you suddenly filled up with love and maternal whateverness. Instead, someone pressed a tiny wrinkled human into Tsume's arms and, with tears in her eyes, Tsume said, “nineteen hours for this?”

 

Her cousin Bikō had come in once everything was done, and collapsed into laughter at that. Luckily, it didn't make the baby start wailing though the nurse - Yumie – did stare very disapprovingly.

 

“She's very healthy,” Yumie said, “all bits accounted for, good lungs.”

 

That Tsume knew, it seemed like her daughter - oh gods – had come out of the womb already screaming. Somewhere between cleaning off the birth goo and returning her, they calmed the baby down but Tsume's ears were still ringing. Or, that was Bikō's laughter.

 

“With a face only a mother would love,” he managed between his snickers. Tsume threw her pillow at him.

 

“Fuck you,” she said. “Just for that, I'm naming this little monster after you.”

 

“Oh hey, low blow,” he said, “nobody deserves that.”

* * *

She did though, in a round about way. Officially her name was just Hana, written in noncommittal hiranga. Her father called her Mebana as a nickname, but honestly, to Tsume her daughter really was named after Bikō, her favourite cousin.

 

“Mommy?”

 

Hana was four now and apparently, the war is starting to seem like it will never be over, but that didn't stop her from going back out, to fight alongside all her comrades and friends. Everyone tried, of course, to tell her not to do that, to stay at home but anyone who knew her didn't bother. Her old teacher had said talking her out of something was like telling a brick wall it was too hard. Yoshino had just shrugged and said,  _what do I know about being a mom_ , which was her way of saying she had Tsume's back. With those two endorsements, Tsume thought she was ready for anything this war could throw at her, and she had the perfect motivation to come back from it.

 

But admittedly, this she hadn't seen coming.

 

“Yes, Hana-chan?” she asked, wrestling an ornate earring into place. She'd been using studs just to prevent the holes growing over, and her other ear was already protesting.

 

“Why are you dressing pretty?”

 

“Ouch,” she said, though she had to smile. Hana was walking a fine line between a proper little lady and a total hellion, to both her parent's confusion. “Did anyone explain to you about Shirio-jiisama?” she asked, and Hana, seated on the bed to Tsume's left, shrugged.

 

“No, just that I can't see him anymore,” little lips pursed, “I didn't see him much anyway.”

 

Damn right you didn't, Tsume thought, but didn't say. “Well, he's died you see, which means something made him go away forever. He was in charge of our clan, but now that he's gone, I'm going to be in charge?”

 

Hana considered this, staring at her mother very carefully.

 

“Okay,” she said finally. “Do I have to take your job if you go away?”

 

“I'm going nowhere,” Tsume said firmly, “but some day. Think you can hack it?”

 

Hana nodded. “Telling people what to do is fun.”

 

“Just like your mother,” Masajun's light voice said from the doorway. Hana beamed.

 

“Mom's the best,” she said. Tsume finished up the last of her fancying-up and kissed the top of the girl's head.

 

“Damn right.”

* * *

 

Being married to Masajun wasn't bad, exactly. It was like having a room mate who only answered an add in the paper, and with whom you had nothing in common. Tsume liked to fight, liked to drink and party and sure, Hana brought that down a little but shinobi were fully capable of running on fumes in the day to day so she wasn't totally house bound. Masajun liked the read, and discuss philosophy. He didn't even appear to like dogs that much, though it seemed to be more like tolerant indifference than dislike.

 

He was also sort of lame, always throwing down the gauntlet. So to say they were mismatched was an understatement, was what she was saying.

 

Still, he was a good dad. She watched him playing with Hana, who was imperiously directing him in some semblance of a tea ceremony. The cynical, mean spirited part of her said this was his natural habitat, sitting and being stripped of any responsibility. The more charitable part of her said he was a good dad and a patient human being to put up with the inanity of a six year old's demands. Especially one on her second year of the academy, who was now under the delusion she counted as a shinobi, or even a proto-shinobi. He didn't even visibly mind that the only other people attending the party were the triplets, who'd only just mastered their no-peeing-in-the-house jutsu.

 

Finally, he spotted her and after a moment got his leige's permission to talk to mommy. Jerking her head, she lead him into the kitchen.

 

“What's up?” he asked the second they were away from little ears. “Did you get called somewhere or-”

 

“Do you remember your promotion night?” she asked. Masajun worked for a publisher, and a month ago had gotten a raise from editorial administrator to actual editor. It came with better pay

 

“Sure,” he said, “we had a nice dinner, then your...friends,” she didn't miss the way he said the word, “took us out. The twitchy one took care of Hana for the night.” As he spoke, something like realization came across his face.

 

“The whole night,” she agreed, fighting back laughter at dubbing Yoshino _the twitchy one_. There was not denying the girl was high strung. “We had fun.”

 

“Yeah,” he said, “I'm gonna sit down.”

 

“Yeah,” she agreed.

 

Masajun looked a little pale, though no exactly unhappy. Surprised, really. They weren't one of those couples who shared a bed, but they did share a room and sometimes, when they stars aligned to create both a mood and an opportunity, they managed to forget their all prevailing apathy for one another.

 

This time though, all the stars aligned.

 

“You're pregnant.”

 

“I'm pregnant,” she agreed. Immediately, a small body barrelled into the room, following by three wagging bodies.

 

“I'm gonna be a big sister!”

* * *

 

If anything, Tsume decided at the age of twenty eight, survivor of a war, a city's destruction, and her own marriage, she wanted to be remembered as someone who tried. She always tried, with all her everything. Whether it was a fight on the ground or a debate at a table, she tried. She and Masajun both tried. They had family outtings, they had alone time, but time didn't draw them closer, instead it drove a wedge called resentment between them and not even the birth of a son, someone he arguably could bond with better than he had Hana, it didn't matter.

 

Because short of keeping him tied in the basement, all the trying in the world could not have made Masajun stay. Honestly, she thought, idly swirling tea in its mug, she was amazed it lasted this long. Across from her, Yoshino was sipping her own tea.

 

“Remember the last time we sat like this, here?” Tsume asked, finally looking up. Yoshino's eyes creased into a smile.

 

“I do,” she said.

 

“Who'da thunk we'd end up here again, huh?” Tsume asked, and Yoshino raised a sardonic eyebrow at her. “I hope you're not teaching your son that, I dunno if his teammates will be as magnanimous as me in not punching him for it.”

 

“He picks everything up and then some,” Yoshino said, something in her voice suggesting this was not entirely pleasing. Tsume knew the feeling, it was like Kiba could hear every fucking thing, and then had the overwhelming urge to repeat it. “How's Kiba?”

 

“He was pretty upset,” Tsume said, “but he seems better today. Hana...” Tsume tapered off. “I found her burning photos this morning.”

 

“Ah,” Yoshino said. “She's the one who found Kiba?”

 

Tsume nodded, not hiding her own anger over that. It was one thing for Masajun to just up and leave, no notes no nothing. It was another for him to do it after agreeing to play with his son.

 

“He always was good at the hide part of hide and seek,” Tsume groused, “what a fucking dick. Why didn't you tell me not marry him?”

 

“I did,” Yoshino said, resting her elbow on the table. “Than you said-”

 

“-anyone who's trying to get into Nara's pants can't tell me shit about guys,” Tsume finished, recalling the vicious glare Yoshino had sent her. “Ever did figure out that death-via-angery-eye beams jutsu?”

 

“Still working on it,” Yoshino said. “I should probably double down actually. The wind is shifting toward mutinous at home.”

 

“Kids,” Tsume said.

 

“Husbands,” Yoshino said.

* * *

“Hey ma.”

 

Kiba's voice, small in the darkness, cut through the silence like a knife. Tsume had heard him before this, of course, but had waited for him to say something. The last few nights he'd come to her door and then just left, and she wanted him to come to whatever this was by himself.

 

“Hey Kiba,” she said, gesturing him forward. “What's up?”

 

He was quiet for a moment, then she felt the bed dip and small body curl up behind her. “I miss tousan. I know 'm not suppose ta' but I do.”

 

Tsume sighed. It was true, Hana didn't want to talk about it, Tsume herself was more annoyed than heartbroken, and she guessed Kiba felt like the odd man out.

 

“Oh Kiba,” she said, turning around. “You're allowed to be sad when someone you love leaves.”

 

Kiba didn't say anything right away. “I still love you too, mama.”

 

“I love ya too punk. Now go to sleep.”

 

“Can I stay here?”

 

Tsume ran a hand through his familiarly wild hair. “Just for tonight.”

* * *

Her father, may the rat bastard rot in Hell forever, used to say that being a field agent was going to lose allure once she was an adult and not an idiot girl playing at war. Luckily, he was wrong like he was about everything else under the sun and Tsume was basking in the glow of a job well done, settled into a camp before tomorrow's return to Konoha.

 

Her team wasn't as great, three fresh faced chūnin right out of their exams, but she'd humiliated them thoroughly enough they weren't questioning her right to lead anymore. They sat mostly in silence – none of them were from the same team or over lapping school years, so were not terribly close. One of the girls, a Hyūga with impossibly white-blonde hair she kept in a high pony tail that _still_ brushed her perky little ass, kept eyeing her.

 

“What's up buttercup?” Tsume asked finally as the itty bitty girl claiming to be seventeen passed around plates of dinner.

 

“My name is Rikka,” she said, and Tsume coughed back a laugh. Of course it was. “You have kids, right Tsume-san?”

 

Oh. Well, Tsume hadn't been considering that that was where this was going. Suddenly, visions of every lost little lamb in the corp looking for a mother replacement flocking to her came to mind, and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Yeah. Hana's a genin under Hijiri Isamu, Kiba's at the academy.”

 

“And you don't get scared, leaving them?” Rikka asked.

 

Tsume shrugged. She'd had her crises of conscience, one for each birth and after Masajun's abandonment, some nosey chūnin wasn't going to reignite it. “The kids understand,” she said, “and the clan takes good care of them.”

 

“Not the same as a mother,” Rikka pointed out. Tsume surveyed her.

 

“War orphan?”

 

Rikka nodded. “I was a baby. My clan raised me.” Tsume looked pointedly up to her forhead.

 

“My clan's motto isn't _cold as ice and twice as unfriendly_.”

 

Naturally, the Hyūga rolled her eyes and promptly shut up.

 

Worked every time.

* * *

The only noise in the area was the chirping of night insects. It was late enough the clan was more or less asleep, the occasional shinobi wandering in from a late night or long mission. Kiba and Hana were on the porch, Akamaru and the triplets curled around them, and Tsume watched the window.

 

“We know you're there, ma,” Kiba called and she rolled her eyes, stepping out of the house.

 

“Don't be rude, you little punk,” she said, lightly smacking his head and nudging Akamaru so she could sit next to him. At her back, Kuromaru was eagerly waiting for her to settle in. Lazy old bastard. “What has you two out here?”

 

“Just talking,” Hana said. “About the war.”

 

Of course.

 

“Not much you can do about it, really,” she said, not unkindly. “Might not even come to pass. It hasn't been declared or anything, just whispers.”

 

“They _killed_ Asuma-sensei,” Kiba said. “Kurenai-sensei,” he cut himself off, Hana squeezed his knee, and Tsume bumped his shoulder. “Team 10's like a buncha ghosts.”

 

“Your sensei is strong,” she said. “And so are your friends. Don't try and predict how this shit's gonna go down, okay?” She looked wryly over to Hana, “life's not that simple.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very confident in my HC that Hana was a teenage pregnancy, and part of the reason the Inuzuka marriage fell apart was not in fact "Tsume's too scary" but rather because they married just as 'the proper thing to do' and then found out the only thing they had in common was the kids they made.


End file.
